


Lost At Sea

by Dibbly



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:31:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibbly/pseuds/Dibbly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bellas have just won the World Championships of A Cappella, but there is someone that Beca just can't get out of her mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost At Sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress - it's literally just a first draft but I'd really like to know what any Beca/Kommissar fans out there think about it. I'm planning on developing a love relationship between the two characters and making Kommissar more human and opening her up.

*

*

*

Emily's voice had just sliced through the crisp darkness of the night, singing the final note of their performance there on the stage of the World Championships of A Capella. The lights had then faded out completely, rendering the stage completely black to the onlooking crowd, who broke into an absolute reverie of cheers, claps and whistles. The moment of darkness allowed Beca the privacy to close her eyes and breathe a deep satisfied sigh. Looking up to the starry sky above, she smiled broadly into the slight chill. _They had killed that performance!_ she thought – and she really felt like they were in for a chance at actually winning the Worlds! She soaked in the feeling, knowing all too well that her fellow Bellas nearby were sharing in this same moment, even though she couldn't see them. Their moment of ecstatic privacy from the crowd was brief, but the joyous smiles could not be removed from their faces as the spotlights blared back into life, once again presenting their beaming figures to the wild crowd. Beca looked over to Chloe, who was already looking in her direction, smiling emotionally; she could’ve sworn she had several tears in her eyes. And then suddenly they were all coming together into the middle of the stage, and Beca found herself surrounded by her devoted team – oh how she loved these weirdos!

“And that was the Barden Bellas!” screamed the overhead, “let's give them a round of applause!”

 _As if the crowd weren't applauding already!_ thought Beca ecstatically as they filed towards the stage exit, turning back occasionally to wave joyously to the crowd - or, in Fat Amy's case, to jump up and down waving her arms in the air screaming “We tha aca-CHAMPS, yeeeeah!!”

As the sounds of the crowd faded slightly to an almost-bearable hum, the young women surrounded each other in the competitors' area backstage, jumping up and down, crying with joy and happiness as the generational Bellas, who had been waiting off-stage for them, joined in with their celebratory excitement. Emily's mum came over to her and gave her a big hug, and Aubrey came bouncing over, grinning broader than ever to embrace any Bella that she could reach - not necessarily seeing who was who in the midst of the sheer craziness!

It was not even three minutes until Beca heard the overhead declaring that the results were about to be announced. The Bellas excited chatting dimmed down to a whisper as each of them perked their ears and held their breath, waiting for the grand announcement.

“In third place,” declared the overhead, who then paused to create suspension.

“Oh get on with it you douchebag!!” Fat Amy half-whispered in frustration, to the disapproving looks of the others.

“The Canadian team, Pentatonix!!” the voice continued. The audience outside broke out into a cacophony of cheers and hollers. Beca looked over to the Canadian team, who were patting each other on the back and slapping hands in a “We did okay” kind of manner.

“In second place,” the overhead went on, “we have..........”

“This guy must be kidding, this is an even longer pause than the first!” said Fat Amy, “What the–“

“Das Sound Machine!!” Beca's brain almost jumped up and down in her skull. _Could this be?_ she thought. _Have we won the Worlds?? Have we beaten Das Sound Machine??_ She looked over to try to find DSM. She caught a glimpse of a few of them not far away, but most of them were blocked from view by the Indian team, the Naan Stops. The ones that she could see did not look very happy.

Cries of “D–S–M, D–S–M...” could be heard outside. And then Beca's questions were about to be swiftly answered.

“And that means, for the first time in history, in first place – an _American_ team – the Barden Bellaaaas!!”

A huge eruption exploded forth from the audience, and all of the Bellas jumped up and down in joy, screaming at the top of their lungs. Everybody hugged everybody, and pretty soon they were being prompted by the Worlds backstage staff to get back onto the stage to claim their trophy. As they jogged excitedly up the steps to the stage, they were greeted by the sound and sight of the audience going wild. Hats were flying, flashlights swaying, and most importantly, voices were screaming. The Bellas stood around the Worlds trophy, and Chloe and Beca picked up a handle each and raised their prize high to the night sky. Beca was ecstatic. She had never felt this alive for a long time: after gruelling practice sessions with the Bellas, working at the Residual Heat Music Production studio and fitting in her coursework around that, it had now all come together, and Beca felt elated. Fireworks started going off, surprising everyone, followed by even louder clapping and cheering. The Bellas were led off-stage once again, this time even more ecstatic and jumpy than the first time they came off.

Once off-stage again, the girls jumped into each others arms; Cynthia Rose admittedly a bit too excitedly into Stacie's, who jumped away just in time. Beca turned, after Aubrey broke up her embrace with Chloe, and caught a glimpse of Das Sound Machine not too far away from them in the tent. They were close-knit, some sitting down and some standing, all talking, all occasionally looking over at the Bellas. They looked disappointed, but many of them looked as if they were taking it bravely on the shoulder and allowing the Bellas their victory. Beca's eyes simply started scanning through the members of DSM on their own, looking for something she hadn't consciously decided to look for... When suddenly her eyes met the gaze of a smiling angel. Time seemed non-existent for a moment as their eyes locked, and she felt an uneasy yet pleasurable cold trickle slip quickly through her body into the pit of her stomach as she laid eyes on the woman who seemed to always set her knees wobbling. The German goddess, who she assumed was called 'Kommissar' (which she gathered by listening closely to her huge male counterpart's celebratory song after their victory at the underground riff-off not too long ago), stood there in all her stature, arms folded gently and eyes smiling, though slightly laughing ( _nothing new there_ thought Beca subconsciously), gazing straight at Beca. Unable to take her eyes away, a deep inner part of Beca, void of any ability for normal thought function, caused her legs to start moving, carrying her towards this captivating, other-worldly creature of beauty. She found it strange how Kommissar could make her feel so hot, sweaty and breathless inside yet somehow also make her feel entirely comfortable and safe in her presence. Beca already felt slightly uncomfortable at the fact that she even had feelings like this for a woman. It had never happened to her before, and she wasn't sure what to make of it or whether she should even indulge it. She was slightly afraid, but altogether taken away on the crystal blue ocean of this angel's wonderful marine eyes. Lost at sea.

Beca's eyes were locked onto her gaze as she floated over (or at least, that's what her movement across the floor felt like to her). Kommissar started to saunter in her direction as well, breaking away from the rest of the DSM crew. She could see that Kommissar's 'second-in-command' was watching them with a suspicious eye, but nobody else in DSM was. As she came within the last two feet of this breathtaking woman, she caught her beautiful scent lingering around her, like a small personal atmosphere that was entirely her own. It was a very faint perfume, but most of it, Beca could tell, was Kommissar's natural bodily scent. It was the most gorgeous, magnetic thing she had ever smelled. Her heart at this point was filled with an expanding heat, and it seemed to be wanting to pound out of her chest. She experienced a pleasurable tingling in all the right places. Despite literally just winning the World Championships, all thoughts of the Bellas' victory seemed non-existent in Beca's mind at that moment – there was only one person inhabiting it.

“Tiny Maus” said the beautiful woman, as she came to stand right in front of Beca. “So... how do you like the feeling of victory?” she went on, in her usual smiling, slightly arrogant manner, scanning Beca's body leisurely, and then finally returning her gaze to settle on the Bella's face unhurriedly, as if she had all the time in the world. Her familiar bass tone caused another wave of emotion to cascade through Beca's body. This time it was not a cold trickle; it was hot – very hot. She felt a mixture of annoyance and fondness at the name Kommissar seemed to have bestowed her. Her expression reflected this by frowning with her eyebrows slightly and tipping her head to the side in a _“Really?”_ kind of way, yet with the teensiest of smiles curling the corners of her lips, and fondness colouring the area behind her eyes.

“What, you don't like the name I have given to you, Tiny Maus?” Kommissar asked playfully, with mock sadness.

Beca shrugged, “Well, you know, it _is_ slightly insulting...” – she paused and shrugged again - “you know...” Her gaze fell to the floor as she became bashful. _Why was she acting like an idiot?? How did Kommissar always have this effect on her?_ Still staring at the floor, she felt Kommissar's watchful eye tickling the top of her head. She hesitantly looked back up at this mocking angel, her gorgeous blue eyes and perfectly blonde hair towering above Beca, continuing to gaze down at her calmly; the smiling, hot look in her eyes slightly more intensified now. Beca felt almost as if Kommissar was quite fond of her, the thought of which started to make her feel a bit wobbly inside. She felt slightly uncomfortable now, being lost for words in the presence of this godly woman who was smiling knowingly down at her. At this, the heat swirling within her body suddenly flushed upwards into her cheeks. _Unluckily_ , her cheeks had the potential of becoming very red and conspicuous more often than not. _Luckily_ , Kommissar decided to chime in and save her from her moment of embarrassment.

“You know I mean it in an affectionate way... don't you?” she inquired. Beca looked up. Kommissar's smile widened into a sexy, cheeky grin – her head cocked slightly to the right, lips parting – her eyes now exuded a warmth deep inside them. “You know I am fond of you, little Bella?” she gently questioned, “you little Tiny Maus...” Her hand had now reached out and was touching Beca's cheek in the gentlest of ways, slowly pinching the flesh around Beca's jaw. A surge of electricity seemed to course through this woman's hand into Beca's cheek and then cascaded down throughout her smaller body, which ended up buzzing intensely in all of her extremities. _Damn._ This woman had Beca wondering whether orgasms were possible without even having to make extensive physical contact. She was starting to believe they were - she certainly felt like she was headed in that very direction herself.

She cleared her throat with a cough and regained herself. Somehow she found the will to pull her face away from the German's exposed-wire fingertips. “Huh!” she blurted out with an air of half-confidence, “I do have a name y'know, you– you f–fallen angel!”. Unfortunately at this point her straight-thinking mind was lingering somewhere behind in the dust of her racing heart, which happened to be plummeting ahead in this game.

Kommissar laughed, her head falling back in the most elegant way. “Oh really Tiny Maus?” said Kommissar, with mock incredulity in her beautiful German accent, smiling regally, “I had no idea... Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me of this name that you say you have?”

Beca felt embarrassed. She did the shrug again. _Why couldn't her shoulders just take a break...??_

“It's... Beca” she said, looking at the floor. She looked back up, and then back down again, shuffling her feet – her usual shifty manner when she was around this blazingly overwhelming woman.

“Beca” said Kommissar, repeating her name after she had said it. It was the first time Beca had heard her say her name; she said it with such clear, crisp pronunciation, completely unlike the way her American friends and family threw it around. It was entirely titillating. “Beca” she said again, placing her closed fists casually to each side of her waist in her typical 'power pose' and shifting her weight in a gloriously slow motion which caused Beca's mouth to water slightly. She was looking up to the ceiling with a curl forming at the corners of her gorgeous lips as if trying Beca's name on for size, or getting her mouth used to it. _Oh God, that mouth... It's gorgeous..._ Beca just wanted to kiss it over and over again... and again... and again... She shocked herself with her thoughts about this woman.

Kommissar looked back down at Beca, who jumped out of her momentary fantasy.

“Sounds like an _insult_... no?” she smirked. “Beca” she said, forcefully, nodding her chin with brow furrowed in mock anger towards an imaginary person. She chuckled at her own joke.

“Hey!” said Beca meekly, understanding the joke but not really liking it. “There's no need to be mean. You– you're... mean!” she said, thrusting a puny uncertain finger in Kommissar's direction and then immediately lowering it, scowling as best as any person ever could towards royalty. It must've been the first time that she was able to utter anything considered mildly negative towards this goddess! Somehow, she continued on. “You're name is Kommissar, right? Well, huh, what kinda name is _that_!” she said emphatically, her arms leaving their sides for the first time during their entire exchange to become more animated, getting into her groove of finally being able to dish out an insult (or two) to this gorgeous individual. Kommissar looked surprised that Beca knew her 'name' – but then she had to correct her.

“Actually, _Feisty_ Maus,” she said – and she smirked down at Beca – “that is just a title that I like to use for myself. It means that I am the leader – like in an army. And if you don't mind,” she continued, “it is _The_ Kommissar, for future reference” She smiled down at her Tiny Maus.

“Oh... Yeah, I kn– I knew that, I– uh...” Beca was stuttering, her cheeks flushing again. She _did_ know that - she had actually studied German at grade school and also high school to boot. Luckily though, just as Beca visibly blushed The Kommissar had looked up behind her and had missed this embarrassing skin-tone situation – she had caught sight of her huge German comrade (who seemed to Beca to be her 'sidekick') in the corner of her eye. He beckoned her with a slight nod of his head, and she saw that the rest of DSM had finished packing up and were preparing to leave. Beca turned and saw this exchange. She also caught eyes with the huge German guy, who issued her a nod of acknowledgement and a slight smile that said _“congratulations... but ve vill beat you next time”_ , and she flickered a smile briefly back, completely lost in the whole moment.

“Well Tiny Maus” said The Kommissar as she turned her head leisurely back to face Beca, “It seems that it is time for me to go. I will see you at the Worlds A Cappella Party tomorrow.”

Beca squinted. “Oh, yeah, I guess..." she said, "But hey, then... then what _is_ your real name?”

The Kommissar's fond sexy smile spread back over her perfect features. She placed one of her hands tenderly on Beca's shoulder and bent down close to her face. She drew her lips close to Beca's cheek on the opposite side of the shoulder she had rested her hand on, and then slowly approached Beca's ear. Beca could feel the glorious heat of The Kommissar's breath on her cheek as she exhaled, the warmth slowly moving across her cheek and ear, and her mind went crazy imagining what the skin of this woman's gorgeous face would feel like against her own. It was so close...

“That...” purred The Kommissar, in her wonderful deep tone, “is a secret, that only those close to me know...” Her hand, on Beca's shoulder, slid ever so slowly down the side of her bare arm as her lips moved back across her cheek – so close – and then suddenly she returned to her full height, graceful as ever, smiled slyly at Beca again, and then walked away to join her crew as they left the premises.

Beca's arm fizzled with the memory of her touch as she gazed on.


	2. Wildcats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a short chapter which is an in-between before the Worlds After-Party that The Kommissar asks if Beca is going to the next evening. Be prepared, it is very sexually explicit!!!! But I hope you enjoy it anyway ;) Make sure you're in the "right mood" to read it ;)

They are in the private bathroom of the _Wildcats_ club – a stone-throw away from the hotel that they had been set up to stay in by the World Championships of A Capella Association. Beca's heavy breathing echoes in the quiet, empty bathroom. She is not alone. Mouth open, she thrusts her tongue into the other woman's mouth, desperately, drinking in everything she can from the gorgeous blonde angel who is locked onto her lips and pushing her aggressively against the small ledge protruding from the wall on which Beca sat. Neither of them had been able to stand the sexual tension between themselves any longer and so, having randomly chanced upon each other in the _Wildcats_ club and after much gazing and 'awkward' silences (to the outsider's eye), each had read the other's eyes and thus they hastened to the bathrooms, locked the door with clumsy hands and then pounced on each other in a ravenous sexual frenzy.

Beca's hands scrunch into The Kommissar's heavenly-scented hair, squeezing her beautiful scalp firmly with her fingers and thumbs, pulling her lips and face even closer into her own. Their tongues play - frenzied and desperate – expressing unbearable days-worth of withheld passion, bursting forth from inner dams that each had built for their own emotional protection. The Kommissar's hands are busy, lavishly slipping their way swiftly up and down Beca's gorgeously soft bare skin underneath her once neat and uncrumpled red flannel shirt. The buttons of this same shirt lie scattered haphazardly across the floor of the bathroom. She exhales sharply and a moan escapes as Beca squeezes her aching, wanting pelvis into The Kommissar's hips and waist, folding her legs right around the taller woman's body and clenching herself as close as she can to her. There is not even a millimetre of empty space between them.

They are in full swing now, both have lost any grip on reality; void of any measured or conscious thought. Kissing Beca's face all over, The Kommissar finds herself pushing her hips slowly, repeatedly, right in between Beca's widely separated legs. Both women sigh as the sensations suddenly become more intense. Neither knowing it of the other, both women feel an extremely pleasurable warm discharge from their yearning sexual centres. It soaks their underwear, which is already almost lacking any more absorbent capacity and wets the tender, intimate area of the insides of their upper thighs. Beca scrunches The Kommissar's sweaty hair hard into her fists and then suddenly shoves this gorgeous creature away from her. No more mister nice mouse. She slips herself down off of the small ledge that she had been perching on and grabs two fistfuls of The Kommissar's silver-buttoned black shirt. The Kommissar is stunned at the feisty beast she seems to have awakened in this Tiny Maus, and for once Beca gets to see the uncharacteristic expression of wide-eyed uncertainty on The Kommissar's sumptuous face. She thrusts The Kommissar away from her, who stumbles backwards bewildered, and then pushes her into the opposite wall, against the tabletop with the sink. She finds the main button on the front of The Kommissar's tight blue jeans and tugs at it roughly, desperately, popping it out of its encasing hole from the other side of the fabric, and then she tugs desperately at the zipper. Then, grabbing either side of The Kommissar's pants, she tugs and wrestles with them until they slink down to the floor, revealing two gorgeously smooth, soft legs and some sexy black lace lingerie. She pushes The Kommissar backwards onto the tabletop beside the sink and tugs the jeans off completely from around her perfect ankles, dumping them onto the bathroom floor. They share a timeless moment - The Kommissar stares down at Beca, lower body trouserless, feeling extremely aroused and salivating endlessly; her soft, tender sexual parts repeatedly imagining Beca's touch. Beca looks at The Kommissar as she uncertainly steps forward slowly into the space between her legs. She traces her hands slowly along the wonderful luxurious planes of the other's soft plush thighs as she goes and, reaching the tops of her thighs looks up to The Kommissar hesitantly, a blush forming on her suddenly fearful face. The Kommissar, seeing this, takes both her hands off from the tabletop and places them gently around Beca's face. She brings her face close to Beca and kisses her lips once, and once again, and again, and again - gently, caringly, reassuringly. Beca's hands, which had strayed back up to The Kommissar's waist, find their way back to the German's inner thighs. They look at each other after the final kiss, Beca reassured, and Beca slips her hands slowly closer to The Kommissar's sexual area. She uses the pads of her thumbs to slowly, nervously trace the surface of The Kommissar's soft sexual parts over her lacy underwear. She slips her fingers over the waistband and pulls at them. The Kommissar lifts her hips and they slip down her skin, smoothly, and then Beca finally gets the full view that she had no idea that she had been craving. Her mouth suddenly waters, and her tongue licks her tingling, impatiently pulsing lips.

She lifts The Kommissar's glorious legs up and The Kommissar parts them, placing the heels of her black worker-style boots apart onto the tabletop, fully exposing her wet open vagina. The Kommissar is shaky now; she can feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning and Beca's gaze, equally, on her wide open exposed sexual equipment. She is totally exposed. Beca looks up to The Kommissar's face, a cheeky smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and then bends down slowly to her knees, hands slipping slowly down across the insides of The Kommissar's thighs as she descends. The Kommissar tries to steady her breath as she feels Beca's warm exhales teasing her wet, throbbing sexual organ. Beca places her thumbs lightly onto the outer lips of The Kommissar's soft, flushed vagina. The Kommissar inhales sharply as Beca pushes her thumbs leisurely up and down. She now pushes her thumbs inside the outer lips, and strokes the inner lips slowly up and down, squeezing and massaging them ever so gently and tantalisingly. She places the thumb of her right hand at the base of The Kommissar's vagina, and then pushes it slowly all the way up through the centre, right up to her clit, and then, unable to stand it any longer, Beca sighs and leans forward to place her mouth over The Kommissar's cute little clitoral area. The Kommissar groans, sighs and growls as Beca then presses her lips together, and she savours the softness and warmth of this gorgeous woman's intimate parts in her mouth. She sucks repeatedly, and her thumbs settle onto The Kommissar's wide open vagina below her mouth. She massages it gently in large circles from the inside and then the outside, covering every inch of her blushing, tender skin. The Kommissar's head and body has dropped back now, limp, defenceless, leaning helplessly against the mirror on the wall. Her hand reaches for the top of Beca's head, which she strokes and scrunches Beca's hair with. Beca inhales deeply; her tongue finds The Kommissar's wet, gaping opening and she slips her whole tongue inside longingly, _mmmmmm_ -ing as she moves in and out of this gorgeous woman's soft warmth. Her hands are searching, and they rub the insides of The Kommissar's heavenly soft thighs as she pushes her face in and out of her soft delicates. The Kommissar falls into a blind reverie of intensifying pleasure. Her own hands slip up and down her body, yearning to be touched in this feast of physical joy. She squeezes her own breasts repeatedly, circling her hands and fingers around them, and her body arches forward, savouring in the waves of pure delight coming from Beca's loving, intense touches. Beca slips one, then two, and then three fingers into The Kommissar's wet, dripping opening and thrusts them in deeply, and back out, all the while sucking breathlessly – ecstatically – on the small hard erection of The Kommissar's clit. The Kommissar screams with delight and bucks her hips forwards and backwards - she completely loses it.

_Here it comes...... Here it coooooooooooomes.........................._

  


The Kommissar woke up suddenly, panting, heart pounding – sweat pouring from her sticky body. The room she was in was pitch-black and, although suddenly quite confused, The Kommissar was on the verge of a climax, right there and then. There was nothing else that she could think about. She slipped her feet down across the silky bedsheets sensually, still half asleep within the beautiful dream that she had just been brutally pulled away from, and, lowering herself back down into a lying position with her head tipped back leisurely, she slipped her hand into her cotton shorts, and then further into her lacy underwear. She slid her fingers across her throbbing, wet sexual organs and rubbed her vagina and clitoris gently before plunging three fingers right inside her. Images of her Tiny Maus popped back into her mind, and before she even knew what was happening she was crying out loud, hips thrusting against her fingers, back arched, and head thrown back in absolute ecstasy as she writhed in joy. Her fingers were then instantly engulfed by a surge of warm splashing liquid – a fresh wave being ejaculated each time as her body shuddered and jerked thereafter. Her breathing slowed as the shudders gradually died down. Her eyes remained shut, and she basked in the afterglow of her amazing sexual experience.

Consciousness regaining, she opened her eyes at leisure and stretched herself in satisfaction across the whole bed. She had never had a wet dream before – it was wonderful. Somehow she had never had any previous success with masturbating. Her conscious mind got in the way too much, thinking about all of the things that she had to do, all the things she had to organise and think about, and worrying about a hundred other things at the same time – mostly to do with DSM. She also knew deep down that she had trouble allowing herself any pleasure in her life... But now, having crossed paths with this Tiny Maus that she felt inexplicably drawn to, she had started to find arousal easy. At least tonight she did. In her dreams. For the first time.

She smiled, satisfied, and removed her wet hand from her shorts, which at this point might as well have just come out of the washing machine; they were soaking wet.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit of embarrassment though at her feelings for this American girl. She worked so hard to keep up a façade with rival a capella groups for intimidation purposes, but she could foresee difficulty in continuing this with the Bellas – or at least, with their leader Beca. She wanted to have more with Beca, but she couldn't do that by continuing to be The Kommissar. _Perhaps she no longer needed her façade._ Now that the Worlds were over, they were no longer rivals with the Bella's, and so why couldn't she open up and try to be more friendly?

But then suddenly a fearful thought crossed The Kommissar's mind and she felt saddened; _What if the Tiny Maus doesn't like me anymore when I drop my Kommissar attitude?_ She thought, _What if she doesn't like who I really am, and she only gets flustered around me because of my appearance and how I act as The Kommissar?_ Feeling suddenly sad and depressed after the wonderful experience of her first ever wet dream, The Kommissar chose to try to put these worrying thoughts to bed, along with herself. She turned over and cuddled herself into the soft hotel mattress and blanket to go back to sleep. She had to be prepared for a night out in the presence of this Tiny Maus at the after-party tomorrow evening, and that started with a good night's rest.

She would change her soaked panties and shorts in the morning...


End file.
